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Miriam Kramer

Landon's Greatest Adventure

Landon shifted in his saddle as he approached the tower. The villagers watched as he passed by, murmuring to one another.

A loud roar thundered from the old watch tower at the edge of the village, frightening Landon’s steed.

“It’s alright, boy,” Landon soothed, patting Braveheart’s neck. “Though he was well aware of his own shaking limbs.

What had he been thinking? Slaying a dragon as his first quest? His parents’ disapproving and doubtful words echoed in his mind.

Landon pushed these thoughts aside and sat up straighter. There were no other knights in the land, and the good people of Tronador needed one now more than ever.

Landon’s armor clanked as he clumsily dismounted Braveheart. He had been a little too short for the horses at the stable back home. His short brown hair disappeared underneath his silver helmet, which he donned partly for protection and partly to stall for time. Then he turned to stare up the towering stone walls of the watchtower.

The dragon bellowed once more, and Landon put a hand on his sword. Braveheart shrieked, turned on his tail, and galloped away.

Frightened and alone, Landon stood planted to the ground, gazing helplessly up the tower. The beast let loose another blood-curdling howl, but this time Landon noticed something off about it. There was a twinge of pain in the roar. It almost sounded like a cry for help rather than a threat.

"H-Hello?" Landon called out, hoping his voice was loud enough to reach the top of the tower. Silence followed, so he tried again. "Do you need help?" More silence.

"Yes, please," a voice thundered from the tower. The pleading tone was clear through the plain English.

"Well- uh- what seems to be the matter?" Landon asked, slightly surprised at having received an answer.

"It's my wing," the dragon explained. "I tore it on something when I landed here. I only meant to stay the night, but my wing hurts so much I can't fly away!"

"I see," Landon replied. "I would gladly help you, but I'm afraid I don't know the first thing about fixing dragon's wings."

"It isn't hard," the dragon assured him. "But the only thing strong enough to stitch a dragon wing is Fairy Silk, and I don't know where to get any."

"Fairy silk?" Landon said. "You're in luck. I happen to know someone close to the fairies. If you'll wait a few days, I will return to fix your wing!"

Before the dragon could say anything more, Landon was off at a sprint. He had to find Braveheart for the journey.

Landon's Aunt Wilifred lived in the enchanted mountains nearby. Many years ago, she had taken refuge there among the fairies. Though Landon hadn't seen her in a long time, he knew she would lend him some silk.

However, the climb up the mountain was no easy feat. The dense forest and steep paths caused even a skilled horse like Braveheart to stumble occasionally. Creatures roamed and skittered through the shadows, startling Landon. He was grateful when he saw the fairy lights peeking through the trees as the sun was setting.

Though still far off, Landon slowed down Braveheart as they approached the brilliant sight. Fairies flitted through the trees, often disappearing into small nests. Their abode blended into the surrounding area so well that were it not for the abundance of flowers and the glowing creatures, no one would ever detect it.

Landon was almost to their border when a group of fairies rushed out, swarming around him. Braveheart whinnied and reared, but his frightened actions only angered the fairies more. They began hissing as they worked to force the unexpected visitors back the way they had come. Landon was also frightened and confused—he had never seen fairies behave so ferociously.

“Stop! Calm yourselves!” He heard Aunt Wilifred’s voice rise above the cacophony. At her command, the fairies ceased hissing and parted for her. “Landon, is that you?” Aunt Wilifred’s keen brown eyes examined him cautiously.

Landon had forgotten he was wearing his helmet. He now removed it and smiled at his aunt.

“Yes, it is,” he replied.

“My, how grown up you look in your armor!” Aunt Wilifred’s questioning gaze melted into a warm smile. Landon beamed. “He is a friend of mine,” she addressed the fairies. “He shall not bring you any harm. Come along, Landon.”

Landon dismounted Braveheart and allowed Aunt Wilifred to lead them both into the fairy’s land.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Landon apologized. “I fear the fairies have forgotten me.”

Aunt Wilifred chuckled. “No, no, it’s not your fault. A great tragedy has befallen the fairies, and they have not been open to visitors lately.”

Landon frowned as they came to a small clearing with a fireplace in the middle.

“What sort of tragedy?” he asked as he tied Braveheart’s reins to a low tree branch.

“A great beast came to the mountains a few nights ago and stole all of their silk,” Aunt Wilifred explained as she fetched water from a pitcher. “It has been terrorizing the surrounding area ever since, and I have had trouble protecting the fairies, nonetheless the other forest creatures.”

“That’s awful.” Landon sat down at the fire and gratefully accepted the cup he was offered. “I suppose my stay shan’t be long, then,” he said regretfully. “I am in need of some Fairy Silk, and if you have none, I must search elsewhere.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Aunt Wilifred asked, pausing as she filled a bucket of water for Braveheart. “The silk is still on the mountain. That beast took the silk and all the rest of its treasures to a cave at the mountain peak.”

“What good does that do me?” Landon asked.

“Well, you’re a knight, aren’t you?” she replied. “Are you not Sir Landon, son of Sir Theodore, the descendant of the great Lord Hendrick, slayer of dragons and defender of meek?”

Landon looked into his cup and watched his distorted face ripple in the water.

“Yes, well, I’m not so sure I’m cut out to be a knight,” he said quietly. “I know that’s what everyone expects from me, and I want to make them proud, I do. But I’m scared of most everything. I’m not strong or smart. What if I get eaten by that beast of yours? What if I let everyone down? I’m afraid I already have…”

Aunt Wilifred was quiet for a moment. She placed the bucket next to Braveheart and sat down across the fire from Landon, carefully arranging her flowing skirts to protect her from the itchy grass.

Aunt Wilifred sighed. “You know I’ve never been good at encouragement. That was always your uncle Rodger’s forte. You remember, he was eaten by a dragon himself. But it didn’t disappoint anyone because he had spent his whole life defending the innocent, even to his death.”

“But I haven’t done anything noble or courageous,” Landon said frustratedly, slamming his cup on the ground and crossing his arms. “Everyone already thinks I’m a horrible knight, and I’d only be proving them right.”

“But you’re missing the point,” Aunt Wilifred said. “Your uncle didn’t fight to earn peoples’ favor or compliments. Whatever glory he earned, he did it for the good of the people. Too many knights these days fight for the honor and forget their first responsibility is to protect their land. People will tell you strength and wit make a good knight, but that isn’t true. All you need to be a knight is the courage to put others before yourself. I know you, Landon. I know you have a heart like that because I see the same thing in you that I saw in your uncle all those years ago.” Landon looked up to see Aunt Wilifred gazing at him with a sternly kind look in her eyes. “I don’t know how you manage it, but you have a great love for the world. Promise me you will never lose it.”

Landon didn’t know what to say. They stared into the fire until the sun had set. The fairies brought honey and little crackers for them to eat. As he ate, Landon thought over everything. Finally, he stood up decidedly.

“You’re right, Aunt Wilifred,” he declared. “I’ve been selfish thinking only of my own well-being when I’m the only one on the whole mountain who might be able to rid the mountain of this monster. I will climb the mountain and slay the beast before it can cause any more harm!”

Aunt Wilifred beamed and stood up to face Landon.

“May your victory be swift and sure!” she exclaimed. “Should you succeed, I have no doubt the fairies will allow you to take whatever silk you need. But come, I have something that may aid you in your quest.”

Aunt Wilifred led the way to her small tent at the edge of the clearing. Inside, away from the glowing stars, it was almost pitch-black. Aunt Wilifred disappeared from sight to rummage through her small chest of belongings. Just as Landon was wondering what she could be fetching, a small light lit up in the darkness. Aunt Wilifred approached, holding a small leather pouch that she had cracked open. White light was streaming out of it.

“Is that…” Landon gasped.

“Yes,” Aunt Wilifred replied. “The fallen star your uncle found on his last quest. I have kept it all these years as a reminder, but I believe you should have it, Landon. Its light was not made to be kept in the dark.” She cinched the bag closed and placed it in Landon’s hands. “Keep it safe, and use it in your time of need.”

“I will,” Landon promised.

Landon set out immediately for the top of the mountain. He left Braveheart behind so he could navigate the narrower and steeper paths. The forest was even more frightening at night, but Landon would remember the star hanging from a string on his belt and find bravery in it.

He soon reached a large, dark cave. It reeked of rotting flesh and blood. In the very back, the faintest glint of gold shone from a large pile. Thankfully, the beast itself was not to be seen.

Ignoring the smell (and the sick feeling in his stomach) as best he could, Landon situated himself just inside the mouth of the cave. Perhaps he could surprise the creature when it returned from whatever havoc it was causing. Landon had no idea how much time passed, but he refused to even rest his arms from holding his sword.

Landon waited silently until finally he heard a rush of wings and a soft but firm thud on the ground outside. He held his breath and listened to the heavy footsteps approaching the cave entrance. In the split second he had to think, it occurred to him that he ought to have asked Aunt Wilifred what kind of creature he would be facing.

As soon as the large beak came into his sight, Landon yelled and launched himself from his hiding place. He swung his sword at the creature’s neck. It roared and dodged away, swiping at him with its large front talons. Landon managed to cut into one of these. The creature screeched and flew out of the cave with its eagle’s wings.

Landon ran outside to face it. For the moment it was in the air, Landon could see clearly the monstrous figure above him. It was a griffin—part eagle and part lion, though he had only heard of them in books. The next thing he noted was that the griffin had the upper hand as long as it was in the air. He had to bring it back into the cave to level the playing field.

The griffin dove down, screeching as it reached out its sharp talons for him. Landon ducked away and swung the sword at the beast’s wing. He merely cut some of the feathers off, but that alone seemed to anger the beast immensely. It roared at him and leapt forward off its hind feet. Landon dodged again and ran into the cave.

The beast pursued him, and Landon barely turned in time to block another swipe from its powerful talons. They fought, talons scraping against steel, until the beast had cornered Landon against the pile of treasures. In a last valiant effort, Landon landed a blow to its side that caused it to furl back in pain for a moment. He took the time to dive behind the huge treasure pile and think of his next move.

Suddenly, his hand brushed against the leather pouch at his side. It was his last chance. He could hear the beast breathing heavily as it approached. With his free hand, he opened the leather pouch and grabbed the star. Just as the griffin flew around the corner to finish him, Landon pulled out the star and thrust it into the beast’s eyes. It shrieked as the bright light blinded it. This was his chance. Landon dropped the star and with both arms drove the sword into the beast’s chest as far as it would go. The griffin gave one last mournful roar as it slumped over.

Landon dropped his bloodied sword and took a few minutes to catch his breath and take in what he had just accomplished. When he emerged from the cave, with his sword in his hilt and bundles of fairy silk in his arms, the sun was rising.


 

Landon climbed the watch tower steps slowly and cautiously. It was a long way to the top, but after climbing the enchanted mountain, it seemed shorter than any staircase he had been on.

When he came to the door at the top, he cautiously opened it and stepped onto the large round balcony above. A hulking figure was huddled under the shade of the great roof that covered the tower. Landon thought the dragon was asleep, but as he approached, it raised its scaly head to watch him.

The dragon emitted a soft growl, which made Landon shiver. The dragon was almost three times the size of the griffin. Still small for a dragon, but large enough to take down a young knight.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Landon assured it. He took a strand of Fairy Silk from his bag and held it up. “See, I brought the Fairy Silk to fix your wing.”

The dragon ceased growling, eyed him for a moment, and then sighed, letting small strings of smoke escape its nostrils.

“Alright,” it said. “You must accept my apologies. Knights aren’t normally kind.”

Landon nodded. “I understand. I’ve never heard of a nice dragon, either.” The dragon nodded slowly as it lay its head down.

“The tear is here.” The dragon spread out its left wing, which took up almost half the platform. There was a large jagged hole near the edge of the wing. Landon approached carefully to examine it closer. “You should be able to sew it shut. I promise I’ll leave as soon as it’s well enough to fly with.”

Landon bent over the wing as he brought out a needle he had borrowed from Aunt Wilifred. It looked miniscule compared to the thick wing in front of him, but it was all he had to work with. He threaded the needle and set to work.

Mother had been right: you never knew when you would need to sew something. Now Landon wished he had more attention to her sewing lessons. His stitches were uneven and lopsided. He stabbed his hand with the needle more than once when the dragon shuddered from the pain. After a while, Landon couldn’t bear the silence and spoke up.

“Do you have a name, dragon?” Landon asked as he worked.

“Yes,” the dragon said, still watching him with wide and wary eyes. “But I cannot speak it in English.”

“So, what shall I call you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give me a name?”

Landon paused in his work and looked up at the dragon, examining its large face.

“You look like a Scott to me,” Landon declared.

“Hm,” the dragon said, sounding quite content. “I quite like that. Do you have a name?”

Landon nodded as he continued his work. “Landon.”

“Oh, yes, that is a wonderful name. You don’t think the villagers will mind if I stay here a little longer?”

“Not if you’re quiet,” Landon replied, remembering the roaring he heard when he first came to Tronador.

“Oh, yes,” the dragon said, sounding embarrassed. “Good thing I won’t have to call for help anymore since you came.” They sat in silence for a moment while Landon attempted to untangle a small knot the silk had gotten into. “Landon, it is quite lonely up in this tower,” the dragon said again. “I don’t suppose you would stay with me until my wing heals.”

Landon thought about this for a few moments. He didn’t have anything else to do. And it would be interesting to have a dragon as a friend.

“Alright,” Landon replied after a while. “I suppose I can stay, as long as you promise not to eat me.”

The dragon smiled widely and laughed. “I think I can manage that.”

And so, Knight Landon stayed with the dragon Scott, and when he healed, the two shared many adventures together. Though none ever compared to when they first met.

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